His Unlucky Life
by Aerivia
Summary: Draco didn't know that he would need someone to save him. He thought he could handle his actions himself but he ended up slipping into oblivion with only a brown haired angel there to help. Sequel to Her Lucky Break.
1. Resignation

Read HER LUCKY BREAK first. Link is here: /s/10671892/1/Her-Lucky-Break (remember the url first)

His Unlucky Life

Resignation

Draco Malfoy was no more than empty box, much like the one Hermione had given him that lay unused at his desk. Every thought and feeling he had upon returning to the school had been safely locked away in a vault that even he couldn't manage to open. Instead it was like his very being had disappeared. It may as well have.

He had gone against his father and everything he stood for, everything he was raised to believe in. He didn't think it right to feel as if a part of him died back there in the shed. Draco should not have felt any regret as that monster was no longer human, no longer his father. He knew he shouldn't, but he did and he couldn't help it. It's why he locked it all away. It was the only to make the guilt and following shame keep from running his life.

Hermione had noticed his distance of course. She hadn't gotten a chance to ask him why he suddenly turned away from the world as if he didn't belong as the minute they arrived, she and Jasper were rushed to the medical wing. Madame Pomfrey had looked horrified at seeing the damage inflicted upon the two and didn't put up a fuss when Draco said he was fine and was going to go see Professor McGonagall instead. In fact, she encouraged it. There was enough work to be done that having him in the room as well may just cause more problems than it would solve.

After travelling across the school with a purpose he found himself pausing outside of the Headmistress' office. What was he going to tell her? That he killed his own father?

Not that she would probably mind his death all too much. Considering the damage he did to a former and current student? No. McGonagall, in all of her traditional and strict ways would likely dance on the man's grave.

If it had been anyone other than a Malfoy, Draco would not need to fear the questions for going after him. If anyone else had been in Draco's shoes, they wouldn't have to fear them either. However, it was the younger Malfoy who had been there with the elder and that raised more than a few concerns.

Could this be a ploy?

Is Lucius really dead?

Is Draco working with him?

Did Draco kill Lucius to keep the situation from getting out of control so that he could continue the work in peace?

It was all because of his perfectly clean blood and perfectly unmoral upbringing that any of this would even happen. He was still pacing nervously in front of the door when it opened abruptly. In the frame revealed a dishevelled McGonagall, a stunned Potter, and Kingsley Shacklebolt who had a mask of indifference covering his face.

"Malfoy!" exclaimed McGonagall. "I was just about to go and find you. I heard you had returned and that Miss Granger and Mr. Getain are currently having their wounds treated. I figured that you'd be best to get the information from."

"You figured right." said Draco stiffly.

"Well come in. Potter, you can leave but I doubt that Madame Pomfrey will actually let you in."

"Thank you Professor. And don't worry. I spent so much time in there that it's practically a second home. She'll let me in." and with that he was off, streaking towards the part of the castle that held the injured best friend of the young man.

Draco tentatively stepped into the room and took a seat on the largest chair by the fire. He didn't relax though. He sat on the edge of the seat, ready to jump up at a moments notice to do something, anything, to keep his mind busy. He knew he'd never get the opportunity to do anything though. Draco had a story to tell to the Headmistress and Minister of Magic.

He didn't know where to start the tale though and Professor McGonagall seemed to notice this, instead choosing to offer a place in time. "Why don't you tell us how you found the location of the two?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he told the tale. He started with the ring that Jasper was wearing and how it had a scrying spell placed on it. He even explained why he used a scrying rather than a tracking. While a tracking could tell his location, the spell of choice could allow Draco to see what the boy was doing, or more importantly, who he was talking to.

All the while the two other people in the room just nodded and listened. As he got further into the story he found it was easier to say what happened, what conclusions he drew regarding the torture of Hermione and Jasper. He even mentioned how he confronted the beast about his mother.

When it came time to tell about Lucius' death he just hung his head in shame. He could feel tears starting to form in his eyes and he refused to let them fall, swiping angrily at his face and counting to three before sealing the vault shut again.

"I killed him."

Those three words made the room seem eerie, as if nobody was there. You couldn't hear a single breath and Draco's own heartbeat was drumming wildly in his ears. It was so loud and fast that he thought it was sure to explode.

However, the young man was even more surprised by the events that followed rather than his heart. McGonagall had given him a hug. She was holding him so tightly and it felt so warm that Draco just accepted it. He didn't attempt to push her away as she was expecting. Instead he sat there like a stone as she offered her condolences to the young professor. He loved it though. He loved knowing that someone cared for his well being. Sure Jasper and Hermione had hugged him back in the shed but they were sitting by a corpse and the relief was so overwhelming that it just didn't feel the same.

"I..." he trailed off. "I want to resign."

"Resign?" she asked, pulling away from him.

"At the end of term if that's alright. I need some time."

McGonagall gave Draco a small smile. "Of course. Thank you for offering to stay for the term. It gives me a few weeks to complete the necessary preparations for a new teacher. And Draco? I really am sorry that you had to go through all of that. Just remember that you're always welcome here."

McGonagall moved to her desk, looking for a paper and the Minister followed closely behind her. Draco saw this as a time to leave and wasted none of it in slipping out the door. He walked the halls aimlessly, not knowing just where it is that he wanted to go. The castle held nothing for him anymore. Everything that had happened since he took this stupid teaching job had caused him nothing but trouble. It wasn't worth it.

He'd left McGonagall's office nearly thirty minutes ago when he ran into Potter.

"How's she doing?" he blurted, unable to contain the questions.

Potter grimaced. "Madame Pomfrey's not letting me in to see Hermione. Says that she's too busy trying to take care of both the patients who came in with horrible injuries. Just what happened to them?"

Draco shook his head.

"I honestly don't know. I was too late."

"Don't say that. They're still alive, aren't they?" Potter said enthusiastically. "Besides, I was told that they'll make remarkable recoveries and that already Jasper wants to leave."

They both laughed. Although it wasn't a warm and friendly conversation, Draco walked away from it feeling much better. At least he had done some good if the two would be able to come back and be there same old overly cheery selves.

It still didn't help him sleep that night.

* * *

><p>It took Jasper three days before he was allowed to leave the hospital wing and it took Hermione eight. Draco had never heard of someone who needed that much monitoring that they had to stay there for eight days.<p>

The minute visitors were allowed to either of them, Draco stopped by. He gave a sucker to Jasper and returned the ring, now spell free. The boy accepted them both graciously and thanked Draco for saving him from the scary monster. After that, the two males would talk and talk about anything and everything. The couple of friends that Jasper had that remained at school were with him at all times that Draco himself was not. Draco never got to talk to Hermione though. The entire time she was in the hospital, as he visited she would be asleep. She seemed to always be asleep though Jasper said that a few time they had talked in the middle of the night. So each day Draco brought her a new flower, hoping that maybe it just might be enough to wake her up.

When she was finally released, his immediate thought was that she bribed Madame Pomfrey to let her go as classes were going to be starting back up. He even asked the healer if she did that but apparently the witch had been let free because she really was better. He saw her at the welcome back feast and she was smiling as if nothing had happened. Like they hadn't all just survived a horrific event.

Granted they had done such a thing once before with the wizarding war but even what his aunt did to her paled in comparison to the few marks he saw on her skin over a week ago. Only the three of them as well as other members of the staff and Ministry actually knew what happened. The rest of the world only knew that Lucius Malfoy had been killed in the act of committing another round of murders. Nobody had a clue who the victims had been or where the event all transpired.

The next day, Draco had contacted the Ministry asking for his father's body to be moved to the family plot at the edge of the Manor's property. They had agreed, although it took some prodding. Draco didn't attend the funeral. He had wanted to. There was no doubt that he would be the only one there but... he wasn't ready. Despite his best efforts to get up that morning and go he just, couldn't. Instead he stayed in bed.

He couldn't remain in bed forever though. Today was the first day of classes and he needed to go. He had to tell the kids about the staff change and how Professor Slughorn had graciously offered to return for the remainder of the year. He had overheard in the halls that Hermione was taking next year off as well. He could only wonder if this was all because of the events she had been through. She acted so normal though that he kind of doubted that she would give up the job because of it. Hermione really did seem to enjoy teaching all of the kids and in a class she excelled in at that.

He spent his remaining weeks packing both his office and his rooms. He had them sent home, back to the manor. He hadn't had time to talk to Hermione or Blaise, not even Jasper. Everyone had been busy with their tasks that sitting down and just having a conversation was nearly impossible. Especially for Draco who needed to go over everything the students had learnt so that Slughorn would know what was covered already and what was left to be done. Not that he really minded, it kept him busy with all the mindless tasks. He didn't need to feel guilty or shameful so long as his mind was occupied.

That's why Draco had been pleasantly surprised when the lady guarding his portrait alerted him of a visitor.

He wasted no time in opening the door only to reveal a certain Defense Against the Dark Arts professor standing with a wide grin on his face. He was proudly holding a bottle of firewhiskey.

"Can't have you leave without a celebration, can we?" Blaise said, offering the bottle to Draco.

The blond couldn't help but to grin as he remembered all the times the two off them had smuggled a bottle through the bag checks. They had done more than just mild celebration when they were a few years younger. Now, as working and responsible adults, they should at least be okay to drink. They were allowed unlimited wine at dinner after all.

He grabbed the bottle and invited the Italian in, ushering him to take a seat on one of the comfortable seats near the fireplace. Blaise lighted the fire as Draco placed the firewhiskey on the small table between the two seats and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard. After filling them partially with ice he wandered back to Blaise and passed him a glass, taking his own seat.

"So... you excited to go back home?" the italian prodded, pouring himself a glass of the amber liquid.

Draco shrugged, "I guess you could say that."

"Alright. Talk."

"Well, it's just odd to be going home and knowing that I'm the sole owner of it now. That my parents are both gone and neither of them are going to leave the back of the lot."

Blaise nodded before downing his whole glass and pouring himself another one. He swished it around a bit before talking. "You know, you don't have to be alone there. Get yourself a smoking hot roommate and then have all the fun."

"Ha, and watch her turn out to be a gold digging whore? I think I'll pass."

The two laughed and continued to joke around with each other before Blaise grew serious once more. "Did you really kill him?"

Draco nodded. Blaise let out a low whistle.

"Wow. I bet you a hundred galleons that he's going to come back and haunt you for the rest of your life."

Draco nodded again, suddenly not up for talking. Blaise seemed to realize this and left the man alone. He even poured Draco one last drink which was gulped back appreciatively. Once Blaise was gone, he looked around the room one last time to make sure everything was all packed away. Not seeing anything that needed to be put back away besides the two glasses, Draco toppled onto the sofa and fell into the first deep sleep he'd had for awhile.

The drunken slumber was the best he'd had in a long time. He would cherish it for more nights to come.

* * *

><p>Now the first chapter of the sequel is done. It's on the shorter side but things are left to get interesting. It's going to switch between Hermione and Draco a bit more than the previous one as I think it will be interesting to see both of their perspectives.<p>

Read and Review my lovelies 3


	2. Even More Sulking

His Unlucky Life

Even More Sulking

Waking up in his childhood home left Draco in a sour mood. It wasn't so much the house itself as it was the the emptiness that had taken over the property. Everywhere he looked, he saw memories of his family. Some were good, like when his mother had taught him how to read. Others were awful such as the time he asked about Aunt Andromeda. His mother and father had forbid him to even speak her name in the house after that day. Even then he loved them. Even when they gave him trouble for something he didn't know was wrong, he listened to them and followed their instructions because they always knew what was best for him.

Or so it had seemed for the longest time. Draco wasn't sure that he could trust much of anything from his father after being sent back to Azkaban. His release the first time had left the man shaken up and feeling horrible for putting his son in such a position. He worked hard to please the Dark Lord and keep his family safe and together. That was a man that even after everything happened, he could still walk away respecting the elder Malfoy. This time he had completely gone insane, believing that his actions were right and that the Dark Lord had really been the answer. Before he had doubted him and his power, he valued family more. It's why they left the battle in the first place. Then he became something that was barely human.

Draco's mother had worked so hard to make the broken family work together, to keep them all in check and behaving like a normal family would. She had made them sit down for breakfast and dinner. She even dragged them out of the house for some "bonding" time.

It pained Draco to think of how they had fought to be a family but then one man could tear that all away. Voldemort had wrecked his father right down to the core when he fell. It shattered any semblance of right and wrong in the family. Dearest mummy couldn't handle daddy and his moodiness, giving up on trying to hold it all together. No, Narcissa had wanted a normal life, to escape the dead end that Voldemort had forged in their path. She chose a muggle man who could grant her just that. Draco didn't blame her, he wanted out of it just as much as she, only he was going to accept Dumbledore's offer to keep the whole family safe.

What hurt the most was hearing what people would say about his family. If they had been in this situation, many of them would have chosen preservation over death. That was the only choice the Malfoy family made. They didn't chose murder and destruction, the chose life.

That wasn't a crime.

Draco had no idea how long he sat there, staring at the green silk sheets that covered his lap. He knew exactly why he chose that colour, to remind him of his time at Hogwarts; of a time that didn't have him questioning his mental state. He had picked them out himself once he learned that he was being invited back to teach.

Nostalgia washed over him as he stood up, walking to the bathroom.

The way Potter always had a righteous air about him. It was pitiful five years ago but now it was a comforting thought. The way Weaselbee could never seem to stay focused had once been a nuisance, now it had faded into a feeling of relief. There was Hermione too, with her know-it-all attitude. That which was infuriating became an almost happy memory.

Blaise was something different altogether. Draco had never had disdain for him as a boy nor as he grew into a man. He understood the struggles that people went through and how right and wrong were not exactly the clearest to see. Instead he stood tall and proud, something Draco had admired about him as it was never something he could accomplish himself.

He let out a deep sigh as the hot water made it's way over his body. The shower washed away everything. All of his worries, his guilt, his growing fondness of people in general, although he'd never admit that one aloud, went down the drain with the soapy water.

The air was a pleasant chill when he left the warmth of the water. He threw on a par of slacks and a white button up shirt, careful to make the buttons match up. He still didn't stall for long enough though and found himself sitting in his father's old study long before he was ready. The room was the same it always was, books he had been forbidden to lay eyes upon as a child were now available for his reading. A pile of paperwork regarding his parents' arrest had been left on the desk from the last time he had visited the room. It had been the day he got the letter from Professor McGonagall. He had felt the need to connect to his parents. He had sent them both letters that day but neither had responded.

He was okay back then. His mother was only going to be in there for a year and his father's case had been lessened to seven due to Harry's help. If only he had not gone off the deep end, then family might have been able to reunite but now it's just a fleeting dream.

Draco didn't know what he was doing but he found himself flinging a vase across the room. The shattered the large window overlooking the garden and he couldn't stop the tears that flowed. Everything he had worked for was smashed into a billion little pieces, much as the fine crystal vase now laying helplessly against the base of a small tree. His hands shook as he furiously swiped at the tears streaming down his cheeks. They refused to stop though and he found himself sitting against the wall, his head held in his hands.

To think that the two people he loved and respected most in this world are gone, a father killed by his son. A wife killed by her husband. Sure there had been more shameful things that happened in the family tree but this was something entirely different. This feeling was one that said that he was to blame. That he should have prevented this. Deep down Draco knew that there was nothing he could do though.

His silent sobs shook his body violently as cold air blasted him from the smashed window. He was done caring though.

* * *

><p>Draco didn't leave his bed the next day. Or the day after that. Actually, it had been a week of straight nightmares and refusal to get up besides letting his house elf change his bedding daily. It was during those times that he would get up and have a shower, wiping off any traces of the horrible memories that plagued his mind. When he mind had been preoccupied at Hogwarts, what with packing up to return home and lending a hand to Professor Slughorn, his actions didn't have a chance to hurt his unconscious. He simply wasn't dreaming.<p>

Now his subconscious was making sure that Draco knew what it thought about his choices in the heat of the moment. It replayed his father's death again and again. It pointed out how effortlessly he had said the two small words that he couldn't even say to Dumbledore, someone he was sure he hated. It didn't leave out the fact that his father didn't expect him to do it. No, his father had willing kept his arms open, inviting him to join him. He wasn't aiming to hurt Draco, but somehow Draco didn't hesitate to kill him.

The thought sickened him.

Even being consumed by the madness, the elder man had still wanted to be a family with him. Even though the man had killed his own wife and demolished any chance for Draco to choose him, he still tried. This is why Draco got out of bed for the first time in a week.

He had gone out to the garden, an enchanted place that was always in bloom. Even though the house elves tried, they couldn't keep it running as beautiful as it once had. Narcissa had loved the garden, it was her pride and joy. She had kept it clean and not a single flower showed a sign of wilting. Draco worked diligently to make the flowers acceptable. He grabbed all of her favourites, separating them into two bouquets each fastened by a large ribbon. With the flowers in hand he made the one trip that he had been dreading most of all.

He didn't bother apparating to the back of the property. It was pointless when this was the first real exercise he'd gotten since coming home. Even the cold and snow wouldn't deter him from his task at hand. He walked the long winding distance through the trees, holding onto the presents as if they were a life line. In reality, he guessed they were. They were slowly pulling him towards the crypt just as he'd be pulled back to the ship.

It was mid afternoon when he finally got to the burial ground his family owned. His hands were frozen stiff around the flowers but he didn't care. In total, there were seventeen generations of Malfoys buried here. He had asked his dad once how old the manor was and he couldn't even tell him the answer. So the two set off to find the records of the building. It had taken a week to find out that the original owner was Talus Malfoy. As expected, his headstone was the largest as he was the first one to define the plot. Draco continued on, passing by the graves of his ancestors.

At last he reached the two freshest graves. The headstones were impeccable, not a hint that the weather had been undesirable to them. Draco smiled slightly. To think that they went through hell and back, becoming battered and broken versions of what they once were, only to be left alone in death.

"Hello mother, father."

He waited for a response even though he knew that he wasn't going to get one.

"It's lonely in the house now. I mean, sure the house elves are still as loud as ever but there's not a single sign that you guys ever occupied the space. Besides Mother's closets and closets of clothes. She needed a new robe for every occasion, didn't you?"

Draco felt tears starting to prick the corner of his eyes. He turned his face up to the white sky, trying to blink them back. It worked, even if it would only be temporarily.

"You know, I think I need to take over the garden. It's not looking so good. Maybe I'll find the journal you kept about the willow snaps. I heard that they're quite nasty but you always knew how to take care of them." he said, bending down to one set of the flowers on his mother's grave.

"And father. I still haven't broken your rules. Those books have not been gotten rid of. Merlin knows how hard you tried to keep them in the Malfoy family, even if it's not solely for academic purposes. I mean, educating oneself about the dark arts in case of an emergency is definitely important but it took forever to build that collection. It's not going anywhere soon,"

After placing the second bouquet on his father's grave he placed a hand on the tombstone of each parent. He squeezed each one before letting go and taking a few steps backwards.

His focus was amazing, barely emitting a 'pop' as he apparated back to the manor. His heart felt lighter but he still didn't sleep well.

* * *

><p>Agh, I'm so sorry for the late update. Originally when I missed Friday I was going to put it up Sunday since it was my birthday but I was out all day then got completely swamped by school. Needless to say, excuses don't mean anything to any of you and I'm trash for not getting this done but it's finally here. And as a heads up, next two weeks may be late as well since it's my my last week before exams and then exams.<p>

Again, I'm sorry!

~Aerivia


	3. An Unexpected Job

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE/CUTTING

His Unlucky Life

An Unexpected Job

She had barely been out of teaching for a week and boy did she miss being surrounded by people. Things got lonely in her apartment that she had gotten for her year out of school. Ginny was originally going to stay with the older witch but had decided that living with her mum and dad would be a better option. Hermione had planned on just doing some studying, having gotten the entire year seven curriculum that she had missed from her old teachers. It was hard to teach the seventh years a few spells that she had spent the previous night learning. At least now she would be a bit more well versed, or so she hoped.

Hermione watched with pride as Ron stopped quaffle after quaffle. This was a whole new level of quidditch. Sure at Hogwarts things could get pretty intense but it was child's play compared to what she was currently watching. She never understood the term 'the big leagues' having never really cared for sports but that's what she would call this. Sure she had seen professional games before tonight but it could never hold her interest for long. After all, what fun was it when she could be working on memorizing new spells. Seeing her best friend up there having the time of his life was captivating.

Now that school was out for summer holidays she needed something to do with her suddenly large quantities of free time. When Ron had owled her requesting that she get her act in order and finally come and see her play she couldn't refuse. That was this morning. Hermione couldn't get out of her place faster to get to the burrow. She was the last to arrive, finding Harry and Ginny awaiting on her so they could go.

It wasn't a surprise when Ron's team won. They may not have caught the snitch but their numerous goals and lack thereof from the other team had sealed the deal for his team. They won with a whopping three hundred and ten points to a measly one hundred and fifty. It wasn't even that the opposing team was bad, they just lacked the skill set Ron's team had.

When they all went back to the burrow it was to have supper made by none other than Mrs. Weasley. Ron came with them, choosing to join his friends and family rather than his teammates in yet another victory night out.

"They aren't that special when we go undefeated with the addition of our two newest members. Our beater and chaser duo are unstoppable." was his reasoning.

Hermione had to admit that the team sure did have a lot of wins under their belt. It often looked as if they were just playing with their food from the few games she had seen thus far.

Everyone chattered happily away as the food disappeared from the table. They talked about all of their recent adventures that had happened while the group was separated. Harry was working some case about a robbery where the thief only stole clocks from the wizarding shops. It turned out that it was just a crazy old bat who wanted "that infernal ticking noise to just stop already!" Ron, well, we all know what he had been up to. Winning match after match of quidditch. In his free time he had apparently taken up doing "magic tricks" for the muggles using real spells. This earned him a slap upside the head from Mrs. Weasley who gave him trouble for tricking the poor people. Ginny had been thinking of trying out a "live life as a muggle" program that would run for a month.

She had decided not to when she learned that it would mean having to do all of the chores by hand leaving little time to practise her writing skills. Ginny was in the running for covering sports in the Daily Prophet and there was no way that she was going to mess that up.

Hermione didn't mention her own adventure that she had during the holidays. Harry didn't talk about it either. She just didn't feel up to telling everyone about it and having them fret over her. It was in the past and can't be changed anyway. It's why she had chosen to just let it drop and ignore anything to do with it. Why would she spend worrying about it when she could just chose to move on and work towards a brighter future?

When supper ended and all of the dishes were cleaned and the mess all taken care of they moved into the living room for tea. The conversation continued to flow and Hermione was content to just sit back and listen to it. Until she was prompted to talk anyway.

"So what are your plans for the year, Hermione?"

"Studying." she answered without thinking. This brought about laughter as people commented on how it was so like her to say that.

"And where will you go, the library?" teased Ron, a goofy grin on his face.

Hermione let a smile of her own creep onto her face. "Maybe. But you're not allowed to join me. You and all of your noise could very well get me thrown out of the place. Besides, it's not just wizarding things that I need to catch up on. I still have tons of information to absorb from the muggle education system as well."

Harry laughed. "Who needs medical school when you know just about every healing spell, potion, and charm there is to know?"

The group laughed again.

"What about you, Harry?"

"Well I plan on getting a promotion to a full field auror so I can be on the front lines. Solving the small mysteries are kind of boring."

"Oh? Do you not like chasing clocks? Hey Harry, is your refrigerator running? You better go catch it!" squealed Ginny, obviously finding the muggle joke hilarious even though it was one of the cheesiest things that had been said so far.

Harry laughed along anyway and Hermione found herself in a state of contentment. It had been so long since they were able to just sit back and enjoy the friendships that they had. It was early morning when they finally ventured up into their rooms. Hermione still wore a smile on her face as she changed into her comfiest pyjamas, one of the only things she had packed. After brushing her teeth she crawled into bed, delighted at the warmth and softness that it provided.

Even though she had been sleeping through nightmares again she didn't care. Her mind just seemed to register that she didn't need that added stress and fear and let her be during her waking hours. At night it continued to run wild, including painting vivid recaptures of her time spent with the man who fell from grace. She often woke with cold sweets and very little memories of what it was about.

Her eyes had barely started to close when she heard it. An annoying pecking sound on the window to her room. She let out a groan as she sat up slowly, aware of just how tired she really was. She walked the few steps to the window sluggishly, not really in a hurry to learn what was disrupting her and why.

When she opened the window she was surprised to find a silky black owl swooping past her, landing on the post of her bed. She pet it lightly on the head before removing the envelope that was placed in it's beak. There was only her name written on the front and that piqued her curiosity. She ripped it open and read the letter with tired eyes. She had to reread to actually absorb what it said despite it's shortness.

_Hermione,_

_We need your help. Meet me out in front of the shop that George owns ASAP._

_Please..._

_B_

She stood there for a second, her eyes glazing over as she wondered what the mysterious letter had meant. Who needed her help? What did they need help with? Her mind was too tired to think about what exactly was being asked of her but she figured it must have been important.

Hermione hurriedly threw a thin jumper on over her tank top and slipped her feet into her shoes. She crept down the stairs but was probably making a lot more noise than she had intended. Really though, she didn't care. Someone needed her help and she planned on getting there. The creepiness of the letter didn't concern her slightly even though who really wants to trust a person who you aren't even sure you know in what is sure to be a deserted street at this time?

Nope. It didn't concern her at all.

She took the floo system to Diagon Alley. She did a quick spell to remove the soot from her clothes. A quick jog around the corner helped wake her up, especially when she realized just who was standing outside of the shop. His dark skin and relaxed stance made it almost impossible to mistake after a year of teaching with him.

"Blaise? What are you doing here? What do you need my help for?"

Blaise darted forward at her voice, his hands wrapping around her shoulder as he looked seriously into her face She tried to squirm away but he wouldn't let her. Fear was settling itself deep into her belly even though she had thought she could trust him.

"Shh, not here. We don't know who's listening and I don't want it getting out."

"Don't want what getting out? Seriously Blaise, what is going on?"

He looked around, seemingly slightly panicked. "Not here."

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. "Then where?"

She was starting to get slightly annoyed with his strange behaviour. After all she had just wanted to go to bed and wake up tomorrow for breakfast with the Weasleys. Now she was out in Diagon Alley in the middle of the night with an estranged man holding her and looking very bothered with the situation.

"We need to apparate."

Hermione wiggled her way out of his grasp. "Isn't there another way?"

Blaise shook his head. "Not quick enough. There's only one place you can apparate to on the property as it is. You wouldn't even be able to get there by yourself."

This time he offered his hand politely and she placed hers in his. His grip was too tight and his face was contorted in worry.

"Where are we going?"

"Malfoy Manor."

It was with a loud crack that the two ended up in a broom closet. They were awfully close together but Hermione didn't care. She was just happy that they walked away without injuries. She reached blindly for a doorknob and quite literally toppled out of the closet with Blaise on top of her. He mumbled sorry and stood up quickly, offering her a hand which she ignored instead choosing to stand up on her own.

"Just why would you bring me here?" she hissed at him.

"You'll see."

Blaise grabbed her hand and dragged her through the manor at pace so fast that she didn't get a chance to enjoy anything. They took so many different turns that Hermione was sure that this place was a maze and she was going to be positively dizzy by the end. Was this one of the defence systems? Making sure that nobody can find there way around and get caught in here forever? She wouldn't put it past the family. The man leading her seemed to know his way around though so she trusted his judgement.

When they finally came to a room with large double oak doors that Hermione just gasped. The engraving on it was exquisite. She didn't think that she had ever seen such a door. Surely it was a work of art.

Blaise gave a shallow laugh before opening the door, "This isn't even the master."

Normally Hermione would have loved to look around and admire the architecture of the room but now was not the time. She immediately understood why she was here and all but ran to the bed, her legs shaking.

His legs were hanging off of the edge and his white blond hair was plastered with sweat to his even paler than usual face. That wasn't what grabbed her attention. What was once probably an expensive white dress shirt had bright crimson stains, particularly around the rolled up cuffs. If it weren't for the shallow breaths that moved his chest ever so slightly she would think of him as dead.

"Get me the medic kit!" she yelled at Blaise who seemed to out of it. He ran out of the room at her command though and she started her work.

The very first thing she did was made sure that the blond would stay unconcious. She used spell after spell, slowly trying to close the deepest of the wounds and repair any damage he may have done internally. When the Italian returned with the kit she happily worked at disinfecting any not yet sealed cuts and removing the blood so she could see better.

She finished with them quickly, returning both wrists to the way they were before. Hermione even removed any evidence of scarring.

If only she was actually done. She couldn't believe that he would do something so stupid and irresponsible. After everything that he had lived through, after he redeemed himself quite considerably, why would he do it? At a time she was sure that she would have done anything to see him dead. He wasn't that person anymore though and she couldn't even begin to think of him like that.

Hermione wiped the hair away from his face. It looked peaceful, as if he was at ease. She didn't have to worry about him dying on her tonight though. The spell she placed on him would keep him out until morning.

She left the room quietly with Blaise following behind her. She didn't get far though, instead choosing to just sit down in the hall, he head resting against the wall behind her.

"Why'd you get me?"

"Well, didn't you want to be a medic?"

"That was a long time ago." she laughed.

Blaise sat down beside her and gave her a smile. "Because you're the brightest witch of our age and I wouldn't trust my mate to anyone else."

She laughed harder. "No, seriously, why me?"

"Because you can keep a secret and I wouldn't want this getting out to the Daily Prophet. It's best if we keep this a secret though."

A comfortable silence fell over them as Hermione continued to question Draco's actions. Blaise was doing likewise until Hermione asked him a different question.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

Blaise blushed. "Well, uh, my house was kind of destroyed during the war and is in the process of being rebuilt. Draco offered to let me stay here through the summer after the project got delayed once more."

Hermione smiled slightly. "That's nice of him."

"Yeah, it really is." he replied, looking at her intently. "Hey, do you uh, wanna stay the night here? I swear these beds are the comfiest I've ever slept on."

At the thought of a nice bed Hermione's eyes once more started to droop. The exhaustion hit her like a train and she barely found herself mumbling out a "yeah" around a yawn. Blaise merely laughed again and led her to a room a few halls down.

She was out like a light the minute that she touched the pillow.

* * *

><p>I know, I'm trash and should have done this sooner. But here it is and I hope you all enjoy it. I had a 93% average this semester, my mark for careers was 100%! Just thought I'd update you guys on that as I did well on my exams so expect normal updates again.<p>

~Aerivia


	4. Lonely

His Unlucky Life

Lonely

Hermione did not want to get out of bed that morning. She felt as if she had just awoken from the most awful dream. One that left her incredibly tired and worn out before the day even begun. She stretched out, enjoying the luxurious feel of the sheets on the exposed skin of her arms and stomach. She didn't think anything was wrong with the bed until she cracked her eyes open.

The room and all of its decor was completely foreign to her. The dark walls were spotted with extravagant pieces of art work and the floors were a rich chocolate coloured wood. Furniture dotted the room but the bed was definitely the centrepiece of the room. It's large size and engraved headboard made it into a masterpiece even lovelier than the paintings on the walls.

Nothing about the room comforted her. As matter of fact, she hopped right out of bed and tumbled onto the floor before remembering the early morning events that had brought her here. It calmed her nerves a bit to know where she was and why but there was still a sinking feeling in her gut. She could only imagine how everyone was at the Burrow. The young witch had run off without word or note to anyone of where she was going, not that she had known at the time anyway. It wasn't like there was a lot that they could go on either.

Hermione stood up and brushed herself off, even though there wasn't a speck of dust to be found in the room. Looking around the room once more found her a large white cotton shirt a pair of jeans folded nicely on top of the desk. She took them gratefully and changed into them. The jeans fit somewhat nicely if not a little too small at the waist but the shirt was entirely too large. She had to roll the sleeves up a few times before she could see her hands and it didn't help that the shirt slipped around on her shoulders. She was still thankful for something clean to wear and refused to complain, even to herself. After roughly coming through her hair with her fingers and tying it back up she felt presentable.

The first question that came to mind was "Is this place a labyrinth?" She had spent ten minutes wandering through the manor, hoping to find someone, anyone, who could point her in the direction of an owl. Instead she wound up back in front of her room. She was positive that the house wasn't this large and confusing on her last, albeit unwilling, adventure here.

"Miss?" a voice said, right behind her.

Hermione jumped slightly, turning around before realizing it was only a house elf.

"Oh hello, what's your name?"

"Zippi, miss. Do you need any help?"

Hermione smiled, crouching down to the elf's height. "Why yes, actually, I could use some help. I'm looking for Blaise, do you know where I can find him?"

"Yes, of course. Let Zippi take you to him right away."

Hermione followed the house elf as she took off at an alarming speed. The young witch found herself speed walking to keep up with the small thing. She couldn't even try and remember which halls they were walking down. So many twists and turns were ridiculous to remember. It seemed even worse than Hogwarts back in her first year with the ever changing staircases. In all honesty, Hermione couldn't help but want to keep it that way. Staying at Malfoy Manor for an extended period of time just wasn't appealing to her. Being in the place where she was tortured, where people had surely died. She wouldn't call it fair to dislike the beautiful home for things it could not control but she had to lie to herself.

Of course it wasn't the house itself that made her uncomfortable. She didn't want to stay here with Draco. She was uncomfortable with him after that night. It's why she never said goodbye to him after learning that he would be resigning. Hermione didn't even know why his very presence made her feel like this. Last night she was able to forget about it all. She had one job to complete and that's all that mattered. Sure at first she had felt thankful that he had gone to such measures that night with his father but then the guilt and confusion had found a way to seep into her very core.

He scared her most of all.

By the time that Zippi had brought Hermione to a large door and told her that Blaise was waiting on the other side she was shaking. She took a minute to herself after Zippi had left before placing a hand on the ornate door.

She had barely touched it when it suddenly flung open from the other side. Draco was standing there with a disgruntled expression on his face. It turned to bewilderment when he noticed just who was standing on the other side. Hermione moved quickly to the side, saying a quick "sorry" as she did so. He just walked right past her and disappeared down another corridor.

Her steps were quiet as she moved into the dining room that he had just left. Blaise was sitting at the table, hunched over with his head in his hands and looking worse than Draco.

Hermione cleared her throat but he didn't move.

"Blaise?"

She heard a grunt come from the man and took that as a sign that she could move to sit beside him. The heavy chair screeched slightly as she pulled it out but still no sign of acknowledgement came from him.

"Blaise... what's wrong?" Hermione prodded softly.

"Master Malfoy has to be the biggest fucktard I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, that's all. You probably already knew that though."

"He'll come back around eventually."

Blaise snorted. "Yeah, right. He didn't even know you were here until just now. I can't imagine what kind of mood that put him in."

"Don't worry about me, I'm pretty sure I can handle him."

"I don't doubt it." he said, turning to look at her for the first time. "Sorry about the clothes. I didn't know your size so I just grabbed what I thought would fit. Needless to say, I should probably never go shopping for a woman again, It's disastrous."

Hermione laughed. "I'll say. I still appreciate the effort though."

"So, is there a reason to you visiting me?"

"Actually, there is. I kind of left in the middle of the night and nobody knows where I am. I was wondering if maybe there was an owl I could use to send out a letter?"

Blaise smiled and stood up, ushering for her to do the same. "Right this way, m'lady."

* * *

><p>Draco collapsed into the overly plush chair that his mother had once been so fond of. The library had always been her favourite room inside of the house. It overlooked the garden and when someone was cooking in the kitchen the smell wafted perfectly into the room. When he was younger he'd sit in here for hours just listening to her read. A small smile crept across his lips at the memories that swarmed him.<p>

It had also been the place where he stored the small dragon box that Hermione had given him. It sat on the corner of the writing desk, untouched from the first time it was put away. He strode towards it. He had always admired the detail that the artist had put into the piece. He had to give Hermione some credit for choosing something that is aesthetically pleasing. He stroked his fingers over the dragon's head and it moved in response. He opened the box and found only the note that Hermione had originally placed in there.

In all honesty, it had been left in there so it wouldn't be empty. Draco had never had plans to actually put something else in it but now he did. A piece of parchment, a quill, and ink well, all of these were removed from the second drawer on the right and placed onto the surface of the desk as he took a seat. He scrounged his brain for what he was feeling. For something, anything, that could describe his current situation.

The fight he had with Blaise, the empty hallways, his failed attempt. All of these ran through his mind as he thought about what he was doing. Why was he even bothering with writing something to put into this stupid box? It's not like it could change anything. Anything that happened has happened lives in the past and can't be changed, so why was he bothering with this?

A minute passed. And then another. Eventually he had been sitting there for nearly an hour just staring at the paper in front of him. The blank paper at that. A perfect waste of time in his mind. That's when it hit him. The one word threw itself onto his shoulders and crushed him completely. It was as if he was a bug and the small six letters worked together to create a foot and squash him into the ground.

He scratched an 'L' onto the piece of parchment.

The Battle for Hogwarts. People who he had gone to school with. He may not have talked to all of them but he still knew their names and their faces. They'd be forever etched into his mind just as Crabbe. They had all been swallowed up by death.

He placed an 'O' next to the previous letter.

The trial. His parents standing proudly even after being shunned by the wizarding community. They refused to let it get to them though. They didn't even really want Potter's help but they accepted it anyway as a sign of good faith. A lot of good it did them. They still ended up being locked away in Azkaban. Draco guessed that nothing could really change their fate.

The third letter 'N' written just as neatly.

The empty house. Always expecting to turn a corner and bump into his parents or one of their constantly visiting friends or family members. Nothing like that ever happened though. It remained bare of humans with the exception of himself.

An 'E' sitting in its spot.

His mother's body. Stiff and cold on the metal slab. The pitying looks he received from Granger. The fear and pain he had felt when she had lifted up the shirt to reveal her stomach. The tears that had flowed and refused to stop. The pain for one of the few people who truly loved and believed in him.

Another 'L' standing proudly.

His father's eyes. The way that they had always dared him to achieve the impossible. The way the light had left them when he became something different and left behind all sense of morality. The way his life had been carelessly discarded in a moment of haste.

The last letter 'Y', his only question.

"Why does everyone leave me?"

That's how LONELY crushed the bug.

* * *

><p>I'm garbage, I know. Actually, I have a real reason this time. I got grounded and wasn't allowed to use my laptop. But I got his chapter done and now it's posted so I hope you can all enjoy it. As always, reviews are appreciated. It's nice to hear people's thoughts!<p>

~Aerivia


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